


I'm Gonna Love You.

by fearless_seas



Series: Young and Beautiful. [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander is afraid that Thomas won't love him, Implied Past Smut, Insecurity, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Lost, They love each other so much, Thomas is afraid of losing Alexander, Thomas is afraid to say I love you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearless_seas/pseuds/fearless_seas
Summary: Thomas Jefferson is in love with Alexander Hamilton. How is it so easy for Alexander to say I love you?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm suppose to be writing and editing Naked Tears, but I'm so in love with the series I could not help myself. I went on a writing binge and wrote two new chapters for Naked Tears and this entire thing.

_I've seen the world, lit it up_

_As my stage now_

_Channeling angels in the new age now_

 

         Thomas Jefferson nuzzled the tip of his nose against the crook of Alexander Hamilton’s neck. As if he was holding the whole world in the palm of his hand, the pads of his fingers scraped it way down against the sharp edge of Alexander’s hip bone, tracing the roots trailing on his skin, running brush of his soft touch to branch off where it stemmed. He couldn’t bring himself to look away. His fingertips thumbed its way across his jawline, meddling with the stubble spotting his cheeks. Alexander’s bare chest peacefully drifted in his slumber, marveling silently to himself at the twitching of his eyelids and the quivering of his lips; even in his sleep he couldn’t manage to keep his mouth shut it seems.

         It didn’t want to find himself drawing too close, becoming too attached fearful that he’d flutter for too long and a silver hourglass of time would run out; Alexander would seep through the gaps of his fingers like glazing, golden sand and submerge in the darkness. Channeling himself to forget and rest upon these anxieties, they instead manifested themselves, like a rope feeding upon all of his fears and the skeletons in his closet, and monsters underneath his bed would peak out at him. The rhythmic beating, dismal thumping in his chest sprung to all of his life and all of his security. Thomas drew a trace of ink across the bridge of Alexander’s eyelids, not wishing to wake him, but making his mark on the world he knew. Those eyes had seen so much, so much pain, and so much loss. The lies that accumulated in his absorptions were not only blinks of exasperation and gentle ties from his past ringletting them into the braid that cascaded down his spine.  

        The sheets that were draped artistically across their body were dyed a pink, the lulling early morning rise from the sun soaking the sheets in the color of the clouds, enveloping the pieces of the consolidation together. Thomas sighed, his own breath matching with Alexander’s; but he was asleep. The drowsy aura permeated away from the numb extensions, he now felt more awake than ever. The thin white sheet that layered his body in a sense of warmth and sanctuary cast age to feel more than just a little tepid. He freed his legs from the wrath of the heat and kicked the blankets to the side, still covering Alexander’s body. The Virginian was now aware that his entire naked build was revealed and he couldn’t contain the bittersweet bite of blush creeping across the flesh of his cheeks.

         Dawn stole show from the clouds and across Thomas’s bare legs the rose and peach sky above admitted across his skin. Colorful in the beauty of the momentary steal. His head faced the ceiling, he was alert that his arm was still pinned underneath the weight of Alexander who was now lightly snoring. A smile broke it’s way across from his lips and from his chin. Elegantly, as not to disturb his love, he twisted his wrist face up, carefully sliding it out from underneath Alexander’s neck. The treasury of secretary gave a sleeping whimper, the loss of comfort apparent in the tight knit stitch of his brows. Alexander Hamilton still remained asleep throughout the loss of Thomas’s holding comfort, not waking and simply revolving on his stomach and wrapping his forgotten grasp around a pillow. Thomas couldn’t of been more in love, admiration pouring in the space of his ears, burning ruby, scorching like flames of fire.

        His side of the bed dipped when he sat up, rolling his neck around on it’s joint to kick out the stiff creaks resting, itching underneath his blades. The uneasy ache in his back gave no rest and he stood on shaky footing, inching the blankets back and his side of the bed rose, becoming level as Alexander held barely any weight in the center. His creamy, tan complexion smoothed the skin of his back and Thomas wanted to trace lines into the small of his back with his hand, spelling out his name on Alexander. His body deflated, wrapped a sheet around his waist to cover himself, feet padding against the wood flooring as he stretched a hand out, as muted as he could muster he tugged open the door to the balcony. Thomas was immediately met with the sun colliding onto his skin, soaking warmth into the shiver of dismantled memorabilia across his posterior like sprinkling dust. He cast his wide amber eyes out across the city before him.

          Below him, the city was beginning to wake and peaking from behind the buildings the light reflected against the paned windows of the skyscrapers. Cars resembling ants from the top floor of his apartment building and the distant honks echoing, bouncing off the cement they were no match at this height for the elegant flapping and swooping from pigeons and seagulls. One of his hands holding the sheet across his body as so anybody in the street would not see the bareness of his figure at the moment; another hand extended and looped its fingers around the bars of the railing- a secure line for safety. If Thomas wanted to he could jump. But if he were to do so, he’d at least wear something nice first. Rather to not be settled into his grave the way he was presented to himself in this moment.

         He found himself rough to endure casual lamentations to his own person. With Alexander on his temper, the tip of his chin facing towards the heavens saw subtle innuendos to everything that was Alexander Hamilton. The fading crescent moon glowing in the sky formed the basis of Alexander’s grin and the silver lining molding, leading, relaying Alexander’s name in the wild blue yonder, highlighted to the world. On the impact of the heavens, his perception pieced all of the tiny implications, building in his brain and they stacked among one another. He was quick to recognize the castles he was assembling in the sky; a castle he would one day lead his lover to in winged flight.

        Maybe Thomas was too quick to brand Alexander, Thomas might slip across the balcony, slide against the tiles, return to the bed only to find his Immigrants clothes, once leading a trail to the bedroom gone and the space in his bed empty. The earlier reassurances whispered into the volume of his hearing was enough to satisfy his worries; but he couldn’t help but think, he didn’t even try to stop himself. He yearned to make sure that he was making the right choice, not wishing to lose another, he willed to make sure that the seizing and the cast around his heart engraved in the name of Alexander Hamilton would not tear. The grievances on the cusp of his tongue, he swallowed them down with force.

          Those _three little words_ , larger than everyone proclaims them to be. He caught the words falling past the tip of Alexander’s tongue, casually proclaimed to his friends and even the lifelong friendship between Jemmy and himself; he could master himself to say those words. In a flicker, he was swift to identify the last time he ever spoke those words. Slipping from his tongue like candy, and even then he was delicate to speak them. A multitude of fractals, solicitude, solitude and quietude, nipping at the nape of his stomach and bridging into his abdomen, the bones in his chest rattling among one another.

          Thomas’s fist balled together, the white sheet held twisted between his fist, his other hand in a punch hanging limply over the safe reach of the balcony. Anger was subsided inside of him, the push through his veins, pumping through his blood, meddling and causing the top of his head to float like high gas. His scalp burned like acid, his throat swallowing to drain the liquor opening new wounds and old scars on the scrape of his throat. He devoured, the corners of his eyelids twitching; Thomas Jefferson was in love with Alexander Hamilton.

         Just the very consideration was almost enough to bring white panic drawing in front of his pupils. So alone, _what if he told Alexander?_ It was only one stupid night they spent together- it couldn’t of mean’t much to either of them. Inside, Thomas knew it wasn’t to be true and he knew that he himself was a keeper of his emotional lies. That _“one stupid night”,_ wasn’t stupid and it wasn’t just one night. To Thomas Jefferson it was two years of angry confrontations across the office, during the painful cabinet meetings, the bitter bite of his counter not thinking through- the rough pain of the things he’d said slashed across his skin and written into the impress around his heart, a trail of words, letter and verses like music notes colliding with the bridge of his shoulders, the S figure of his back and the arch of his hip, curve of his stomach, trailing along his collarbone. Thomas felt as if he was drowning, lungs filling with water, sinking to the bottom. Thomas Jefferson was in love with Alexander Hamilton and he-

        “Thomas?”.

       Thomas flinched where he stood, his palm opening, the skin of his hand raised towards the sky, circulation brought back from the collective stories written in his veins. His hand was shaking, his chin quivering. There was somebody else’s gentle touch on his bicep and another man’s nails drew messy traces of collections between the freckles on his back and his muscles, lining them together and forming constellations out of the stars impressed into his skin. His own head drew it’s view away from the city before him, turning narrowly to his right, blinking owlishly at the shorter man beside him.

        The first thing he noticed was that he was naked, and Thomas almost felt like a prude for carrying a sheet around his stomach, covering the lower half of his body. Second, Thomas noticed that the lids of his eyes were half shut, cowering in the glitter of the dawn. For a sleep deprived man, he slept. Thomas raised an eyebrow, the wine from last night still covered the meat of his lips in a drink of the truth, Alexander’s taste and sour grapes in the spaces of his teeth.

        Alexander placed a hand on his hip, pointing it out and gathering a smirk, “Impressed?”. Thomas gave a brewing chuckle, but contributed no answer. Their eyes met in the center, bridging between two points of sensual contact. Alexander’s sweat on his stomach, and Thomas’s saliva in hungry, devouring, satisfactory licks across the Caribbean’s neck. The shorter squeezed himself in next to Thomas, sliding in underneath the chain and link of his arms, the top of his ebony hair rubbing against the bottom of The Virginians chin. The silence protruded from the advancing day and Thomas was tempted to check the time but his internal clock handed him a file of trust. It was about six thirty in the morning, it said. Thomas hoped it wasn’t lying.

        Alexander hugged himself against Thomas’s body, burrowing into his touch, and bare of his back side pressing against Thomas and he felt himself blush. Thomas knew Alexander was going to say something before he even formulated the sentences in the spaces of his brain, “Thomas…”

         Bearing out into the touch, Thomas flattened his cheek against the cap of Alexander’s head, “Alexander?”. The beating in the cavity of his chest grew and he felt a lump form in the rear of his jugular beneath his tongue.

         “I-I-”, the communications were stolen him his dialect, Thomas pressed and love tattooed into his lips and brushed them against the blade of Alexander’s shoulder, “I don’t want this to be a one time thing-”, his head angled to face up into Thomas’s deep gaze and he revolved his body, cupping Thomas’s hips with the dry and cracking hold and squeeze of his mark. “-I want-”, he paused, and Thomas reached a domesticated hand up to caress the stray locks of sticky hair covering Alexander’s forehead, tucking them behind his ear for improved view of his russet eyes. In that instant, the sparkle of a second, Alexander shut his orbs, blinding himself and Thomas saw where the rest of his body was smooth, his eyelids were covered in flaking gray freckles. He made the connection and added them to the galaxy above.

          _I’ll fly you to the moon, Alexander._

          Alexander’s forehead inclined and embraced his crown, butting it against Thomas’s chest. The Virginian’s hand dipped, slinking his hands over the V queening into his back. “I want to be a part of you-”, Alexander glimpsed up, their eyes both meeting and intertwining like fates united in a ribbon.

         For a moment, Thomas could forget that he was in New York City and not Virginia, he could dismiss the paperwork piled on his desk at work and he could obliterate everything he’d lost. Thomas Jefferson could consign to oblivion his Mother’s death which came to him in a envelope in the mail, he could clean that his Father was now lying with his hands crossed in front of his chest, the decaying fingers once squeezing the life out of Thomas’s neck, throwing him up against a wall, the pressure to forget in his cortex, building houses out of the clouds in his soul. He could forget everything, everyone he’d lost because of what he’d manage to gain. He’d gained a soul mate, he’d fought for his kindred spirit and in the mess of it all he’d won.

         “-I want to wake up every morning and trace the freckles on your back-”, Alexander lips continued to part in the confrontations spilling. Alexander’s arms swiped over the skin of his back to dramatize and Thomas allowed himself a slight shiver to roll, crescendoing down his spine.

         “-I want to wrap my arms around your waist and never let go-”, Thomas could ambiance Alexander’s heartbeat slowing in his chest instead of the contrast of rising. In this juncture, Thomas’s rate was spiraling and he couldn’t sense anything but Alexander’s touch, Alexander’s scent and Alexander’s heart beat enveloping him in waves of admiration.

         “-I want to feel your hands on my hips when we dance in the shadow of the refrigerator light-”, above, in the heaven, the sun soaring steadily in the sky, it’s ray casting down like a spotlight towards the two supposed political enemies in the antecedent daybreak fever, abysmal into their lives and yet the genesis and the birth of a new story and new enlightenment.

         “-I want our fingers intertwined as we drive to places I can’t even pronounce-”, the castles in the clouds, tall stone pillars of dust and pink sunshine.

        “-I want to hear your voice, your hot breath on my neck when you sing to me-”, Thomas’s soul began to hum, his heart gaped it’s lips to produce a mesmerizing symphony of artistry.

       “I want to hug you-”, the arms cloaked around Thomas’s hips tugged him closer.

         “I want to hold you-”, A hand settled it’s way onto Thomas’s neck, the pads of Alexander’s thumbs pressed against the tops of the cheekbones, etching holes and rubbing the skin, Thomas leaned into the delicacy touch.

         “I want to kiss you-” the contact shot stunted, the tips of his fingers rubbing against the cleft of his jaw, rub of his stubble and traced a line, engraving a stamping fingerprint of identity in the center of his lips with his nails like parchment.

         Alexander’s fawn like optics squinted up to him, they creased and wrinkles outlining his vision drew closer together and Thomas rose a hand hold a burning squeeze into Alexander’s wrist, pumping and seeping into his blood. Becoming a part of him.

        “I want to know that you’ll let me cry on your shoulder-”

         “I want to know that you’ll always be a piece of a heart”.

        Alexander breathed in, for brief the world paused, it discontinued rotating and the heliocentric atmosphere revolved. For that string of age, Thomas was able to gaze at his world for as emended he needed too, but it was never enough. The world still spun, weaving it’s never-ending string of fate and like the burning of a map, he lead his own direction, constructed his own destiny and his own livelihood. Roads, pathways and streets were his own creation. 

         “Most importantly-”, Alexander’s hand came to cup his chin and Thomas’s half lidded gaze of pure ecstasy, passion and grace covered the space between them. Their chests colliding, meddling. “-I need to know that you’ll love me, because Thomas-”, Alexander tipped his chin, a hand covering the back of Thomas’s neck, tugging their foreheads, their sweat mingling together as their foreheads met, touching, a symbolic and melodic symphony of muse and consolidation. “-I love you.”

          _Those three words._

         Those _three little words_ with such a large meaning were all that it took. Words Thomas was fearful to taste on his tongue, words rare on his teeth, three syllables, and eight letters of the most meaningful dialogue on the earth. Closing the space, like an animal, Thomas shut his eyes, jamming Alexander’s bare back against the railing of the balcony. Alexander let out a gasp of surprise, masked and quieted by the scrape and violence of teeth nipping at one another’s and the mix of lips. Alexander soon melted into the kiss and Thomas let go of the sheet, it floated majestically to the tile floor and the subtle picking of wind brushed against the bare skin of his legs.

          He hoisted Alexander up by the hips, Alexander wrapped his legs in devastation around Thomas’s waist running his hands around Thomas’s neck, gathering freckles in his fingertips. Almost as if Alexander knew the hands that had been around his neck were before in the intent to hurt, Alexander’s touch brushed over the past scars and distant memories, the vivid simplistic melody from the start as he cured the hurting soul parting and wounding at the nape of Thomas’s neck. Thomas sucked his way down from Alexander’s mouth, chewing on his lips, not allowing any seconds to stop and breath as he traced a trail of fresh bruises around Alexander’s collar bone like a pearl necklace of vindication.

          Then- Thomas pulled away, leaving Alexander to whimper, opening his eyes and wincing into the sunlight at the loss. Their inhalations mixing together like ashes, and out of them grew maroon buds of roses. Thomas’s own eyes parted, their foreheads resting against one another’s.

          “I love you”.

           Without further, no hunger displayed in their motions, Alexander budded a head underneath, hooking it over Thomas’s shoulder. Their eyes closing, lids falling to capture the magnitude of their extent. In sync with their movements towards one another. Their bodies intertwined like two perfect circles, bridges and forming themselves together. Thomas was unaware of the tears tracing silhouettes down his own cheeks and he held Alexander closer as he sniffled over his back.

          “I love you, Thomas.”

         Thomas’s chest quivered, grasping a lip between his teeth and biting down, _I’ll never let you go._

          “You know we are both naked on a balcony, and everyone can see us?”.

         Through the salt of his tears, “I know”. _I don't want to ever let you go._

         “You know we have work this morning.”

         “I know”, stifling a seldom grin of systematic. “There’s plenty of time, darlin’”

         A tickle sparked from his spine, Alexander mumbled though the bruises he licked up Thomas’s neck, “Plenty of time”, teasing and the taller moaned into the indication of lust.

         In the sunrise of the early morning, they each guided each other in laced fingers and connection of lives back inside, Thomas cast one more glance over his shoulder only to notice the salmon in the sky from before had faded like watercolors into indigo. Hovered above Alexander, thrusting up right up into the perfect spot that caused him to become undone, Thomas saw the fuchsia from the dawn sky still glowing on Alexander’s cheeks.

          The color, never leaving their cheek.

         The art, never escaping their form.

           The love, never gone from their hearts.

          The trail of gentle brushing touches connecting the freckles on Thomas Jefferson’s back, constellations colliding between the two; finding their way to Alexander’s eyes, and nestling in the faded tears on their bones, same contrasting dust of love in their souls. Somehow, in the traveling glances stolen across the office and the mixed signals of violent push of politics. Somehow, the differences spotted in the outer flesh of their skeleton was poor reflection in the truth; as they lay, that whole day until they watched the sunset pool itself across the walls of their bedroom and cast an angry shadow of tangerine. They both forgot everything they’d lost, their focus relying on what was right before them. Somehow, two men of different standings, different political views and their hurts from the past were able to find all their similarities.

          Somehow, between their laced fingers, stolen diverted glances;

          Two men’s fates aligned, both their hearts entwined and all their love, _combined_.

**Author's Note:**

> You guys can contact me on Tumblr (@sonofhistory). Please, kudos and bookmarks are highly appreciated. Comments are very, very appreciated- let me know what you thought of this? Emotions? I apologize.


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